Trapped
by ibelieveinguardianangels
Summary: Sherlock finds himself in a rather sticky situation - much to the amusement of John and Greg.


**After the lovely response to my first Sherlock fanfiction (thank you all who reviewed - sorry I don't respond at all, but I do read every review I get), I decided to write another. I hope it's okay, thank you for reading, in advance. **

**Sorry about any mistakes. **

Trapped

A gasp escaped the consulting detective's mouth, his blue eyes widening with realisation as he tried, for a third time, to pull his arm out from where it was wedged behind the radiator he had been attempting the fix, the radiator his flatmate had been complaining was cold for the past two days; he felt a sense of panic rising in his chest as he tried, again, to tug the appendage free.

"No," Sherlock whispered, forcing himself to remain calm for a few more moments whilst he mentally assessed the situation at hand and figured out to best possible way to deal with it. "John!" He shouted after a few moments, realising that his best course of action was to inform his doctor/blogger/flatmate. "John?" He called again, the panic rising once more when he realised he was alone in the flat. "Mrs. Hudson?" He tried before remembering that she was away for the week. He dug his free left hand into his right pocket and fumbled as he attempted to pull the phone out. He scrolled, clumsily, through his contacts, pausing when the phone landed on Lestrade's name; he quickly dialled the number, holding the phone to his ear. He didn't even wait for the Detective Inspector to speak when the call was connected before he fired his question at him, "Where are you?" He demanded, questioning a few seconds later, "Where's John? What do you mean he's there?! I need him here!" He hissed, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, "Because I'm stuck! I've got my arm stuck and I can't feel my hand!"

The call was disconnected without Lestrade saying another word and Sherlock found himself left again in the silence of the flat with his arm jammed behind a radiator; he could only thank the fact that it was broken, preventing him from being burned; he tugged his arm again, the panic rising in his chest again; he silently reprimanded himself as tears gathered in his eyes, blurring his vision.

Sherlock had no idea how long he'd been stuck, but his back was aching when he heard footsteps on the staircase, two sets of feet entering the flat; "Sherlock?! Where are you?" Lestrade's voice drifted through to where the detective was.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Sherlock replied "Is John with you?"

"I'm right here," John stated as he entered the kitchen, his eyes falling immediately on the detective who was, obviously, in a very uncomfortable position on the kitchen floor with his arm trapped behind the radiator, John bit back a laugh as he regarded his friend, "What the hell were you doing to get yourself into this mess?" The doctor questioned, approaching his flatmate, his black coat discarded on the sofa, and glancing down the back of the radiator to see just how much of his friend's arm was trapped.

"I was trying to fix it." Sherlock stated, the unspoken 'Obviously' clear. "I didn't even realise I was stuck until I tried to move. I can't feel my arm, John!" Sherlock met his friend's eyes, his panic returning once again.

"Okay, calm down, Sherlock." John soothed, "I'll see what I can do. Greg," He turned his head to face the detective inspector, "I need you to phone an ambulance, he's going to need one by the time we get him out of here." John reached forwards, checking the radiator only to find that it was fastened to the wall and, unlike the others in the flat, would not be removed from its brackets. He decided on a different tactic and knelt down beside the detective, placing his hand just above his elbow and tugging gently, trying to find out just how badly jammed he was. He heard the detective hiss beside him.

"Argh!" Sherlock yelled "Argh! John, that hurts! Stop!"

"Of course it hurts, bloody hell, Sherlock, you're really wedged in there." John sighed softly at the pain on the detective's face, "Greg, tell them we need the fire services. There's no way I'll be able to free him on my own. Sherlock," John turned back to look at his friend, "hand and arm aside, do you feel okay? And I need you to tell me the truth."

"I feel fine;" Sherlock assured him, despite the glistening in his eyes, "perhaps a bit frustrated."

"As long as you're feeling okay." John smiled. The doctor and Detective Inspector stood off to the side as the fire brigade arrived, discussing the best course of action to help the man before finally deciding to remove the radiator from its brackets to free his arm.

"Can you hurry up?" The detective snapped, earning a glare from Lestrade.

"Sherlock." John warned.

"No, John, my arm is throbbing and I have to use the toilet." Sherlock admitted.

"It's okay, Sherlock. They'll have you free soon, they just have to make sure that they don't accidentally cause you any extra harm." John explained, his voice reassuring. Sherlock remained quiet until his arm was finally freed from behind the radiator at which point he let out a hiss and rushed off into the bathroom.

"Let me see," John ordered as Sherlock exited the bathroom, looking rather shaken. "It doesn't look broken, just bruised, but we'll let the paramedics make certain." He assured him, surprised at his compliance. The detective allowed his flatmate to walk him down the stairs and towards the waiting ambulance. When it was decided that there was no immediate cause for worry, John thanked both emergency services with the promise that his friend wouldn't be doing anything of the sort again soon. The pair made their way back upstairs and to the flat where Greg was waiting with an amused expression on his face at the sight of the self-confident detective strapped up in a bandage and sling.

"Just bruising as I suspected, he has to keep it elevated to prevent swelling" John explained, watching as his friend lowered himself into the chair, still looking shaken. "Thanks for your help," John smiled, "You can go if you like. I think the genius would prefer it."

"Keep me updated." Greg smiled, leaving the flat to head back to Scotland Yard.

"So, just what were you doing to end up in that position?" John questioned, preparing himself for the story that was sure to follow.

**Thank you, again, for reading. Please review.**


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